


Joining Forces

by Rocky_T



Series: Tightrope [5]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e01 Caretaker, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25235863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T
Summary: At the end of "Caretaker", Janeway takes a gamble to insure the survival of her ship and crew.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Owen Paris
Series: Tightrope [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797067
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	Joining Forces

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Seema for her usual excellent beta.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Janeway said as Tuvok ushered the Maquis leader into the Ready Room. “That will be all.” Tuvok exchanged a look with his captain and then left the room.

“Have a seat, Mr. Chakotay,” Janeway said, indicating the chair in front of her desk.

Chakotay, who had been clearly heading toward the sofa, stopped short, reversed direction, and sat down. He still wore the clothes he’d had on aboard his Maquis vessel and they were somewhat the worse for wear by now. His unshaven face was gaunt, his expression exhausted, and yet there was a spark in his eyes.

“Aren’t you afraid of being alone with me?” he asked, with a small smile. Janeway immediately picked up the hint of challenge in his voice.

“I have no reason to be,” Janeway responded coolly. “Just so you are aware, my Chief of Security, not to mention a number of other security personnel, is right outside the door.”

“Exactly, they’re outside,” Chakotay emphasized. “If I was so inclined, what’s to stop me from harming you--or grabbing you as a hostage right now?”

“For one thing, you’d barely take a single step before this room would be flooded with hydrocyanic gas, which would render you instantly unconscious,” Janeway said, meeting his gaze squarely. “However, I really don’t think it would come to that. You’re an intelligent man, Mr. Chakotay, as you proved earlier when you agreed to work together to locate our missing crewmembers. And, more importantly, as you showed when you backed my decision to destroy the Caretaker’s Array.” The phrase “and effectively stranding us 70,000 light years from home” hung in the air between them. 

“Good point,” Chakotay said, pressing his lips into a thin line. “So let’s say I don’t attack you.”

Janeway narrowed her eyes as she took in the man she’d spent months studying before setting off in pursuit. She was relying heavily on the information in the psychological dossier, and hoped its assessment of Chakotay was correct. “That’s the premise I was starting from.” She paused, and then said, “And also that we could trust each other.”

“Trust? That’s quite the leap, Captain.”

“Let’s say it’s one I’m considering.”

“What makes you so sure I won’t try to take control of your ship?” he asked, leaning forward intently.

“Because as a former Starfleet tactical officer, you’re skilled at situational assessment,” Janeway said calmly. “It’s obvious the odds aren’t in your favor. Your people are outnumbered more than two to one, and facing a well-trained and disciplined Starfleet crew. You wouldn’t stand a chance, and you know it.”

“You’re right,” he said, shifting position so he was settled comfortably in his seat once more. “This is your ship. You call the shots. If the circumstances were different…but they’re not.”

Janeway agreed, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief that it had been _Voyager_ , and not the _Val Jean_ , which had survived. She didn’t even want to think what it would have been like if the situation was reversed. Aloud, she said, “Now that the immediate crisis has passed, we have some other business to attend to. And the first item on the agenda is…” she let her words trail off suggestively.

“What to do with the Maquis,” he supplied, confirming her opinion of his intelligence.

“Exactly.” Janeway steepled her hands under her chin. “What would you do, if you were in my shoes?”

Chakotay didn’t hesitate. “I’d say you’ve got two choices: imprison us in your brig for the next 70 years or turn us loose on the first M class planet you find. You’d have to leave us with enough supplies and equipment to survive, of course.”

“Would you go quietly, just like that?” she asked curiously.

“It’s a better alternative than being imprisoned,” Chakotay said, never taking his eyes off her face. “Unless you would rather go for a summary execution, but I didn’t think Starfleet played that way.”

Janeway felt a stab of annoyance. “You’re former Starfleet,” she pointed out. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

He smiled suddenly, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “I do,” he said, “but it’s nice to have some independent confirmation.”

She suppressed an answering smile. “Trust but verify?” Without waiting for a response, she went on, “However, there is a third alternative you didn’t mention.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “There is?”

“That you and the other Maquis become part of this crew and we continue our journey home together.”

His eyebrows rose even higher. Clearly, he hadn’t expected this. “You’re offering to join forces.”

“I said, as part of my crew,” she reminded him. “This is a Starfleet vessel and it will be run according to Starfleet regulations. All of you would have to abide by those rules, and operate within a strict chain of command.”

“How exactly would that work?” he said, folding his arms over his chest as he prepared to hear her out.

“I’ll grant all of you field commissions,” Janeway said. “It’s the captain’s prerogative to do so. Assignments would be based on areas of expertise, as well as need; I expect most of your people will be assigned to Engineering or Security.”

“You’d trust us in sensitive areas of the ship?”

“Isn’t this what this is all about?” she shot back. “If you’re going to be part of the crew, it’s all the way, not just some half-assed token gesture.” She paused. “I’ll be honest with you, Chakotay – I need you. I have barely 100 people left alive from my original crew and a ship this size is optimally run with a crew of 150.”

He was silent for a moment, as if considering the ramifications of her words. “You’re really serious, aren’t you? Starfleet, huh? Uniforms and all?” She nodded. “What about ranks?”

“Ranks would be determined on a case by case basis, depending on individual experience.” She thought once more about what she’d learned from the dossier, as well as the additional information Tom had given to Cavit before _Voyager_ had gotten underway. “I realize that some of your people have Starfleet training; a few, like yourself, actually served in the ‘Fleet. And I know that all of you are quick learners and eminently capable.” She didn’t add the obvious – that they’d have to be, to have survived this long. “I’ll defer to your greater familiarity and knowledge before I make any actual decisions, of course, but I prepared this as a starting point.” She slid the PADD across the desk top to him.

He immediately picked it up and began to scroll through. “You’ve listed me with the rank of Commander,” he noted.

“That _was_ your rank when you resigned your commission two years ago,” Janeway said. “As the leader of your cell, as well as captain of the _Val Jean_ , I’d imagine your qualifications have only increased in the interim.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Besides, it _is_ the usual rank for the ship’s first officer.”

She watched the realization sink in. “You’re offering me the position of first officer. Why?”

“As I explained, you’re certainly qualified.”

“No, I mean, why not offer it to Tuvok?” Chakotay grimaced slightly as he said the name of the Security Chief; the revelation of Tuvok’s role as undercover spy doubtless still rankled.

“I need him to continue in the role of my head of Security as well as my Tactical officer. Besides, there are other considerations as well.”

He smiled sourly. “You think the Maquis will be more inclined to go along with this if I’m second in command.”

“I told you, these aren’t token assignments. I expect you to pull your weight and act in the best interests of the ship as my first officer,” Janeway said, though she didn’t refute the truth in his statement.

“Understood,” he said. “Anything else?”

“Yes. Along the same lines, I expect every member of the crew to treat the others with full respect.”

“You sound like you don’t think we would,” Chakotay said scornfully.

“I’m aware that tensions will run high as our people are forced to interact with each other on an ongoing basis. We’ve just come through a major crisis, suffered major losses on both sides, and then there’s the minor detail that we were seeking to bring you to justice. That won’t easily be forgotten, nor do I want to overlook the very real costs, both physical as well as emotional, if conflict breaks out between the Maquis and Starfleet personnel on board.” She took a deep breath, thinking of Torres’s angry outburst on the bridge at the destruction of the Array, and the open hostility she’d sensed from the other Maquis. “I have no doubt that some may be out for revenge.”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her meaning. “You mean Tom Paris.”

“It hasn’t escaped my attention that there are some hard feelings on the part of the Maquis toward Mr. Paris,” she said, remembering how Chakotay had immediately gone for the younger man when he’d first beamed aboard _Voyager_ at the height of the crisis, and how she’d had to step in between them and tell Chakotay to stand down. “I imagine the same would be true for Lieutenant Tuvok.”

“And you don’t want to have to worry about any threats toward their well-being,” he finished. He understood, all right. “Well, rest assured, Captain, that you need have no worries on that score.” He added, “Paris saved my life down on Ocampa. I promise you, no one will touch him.”

Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief, but she wasn’t finished yet. “What about Tuvok?”

“He’s safe as well.”

 _I’ll hold you to that_ , she thought, but didn’t say aloud. She rose from her seat and came around to stand next to him. “Any questions?”

He rose as well. He turned to her and she held out her right hand, preparatory to shaking his. Instead, he picked up her left hand, turning it from side to side and watching the light catch the slim platinum band she wore on her ring finger. “You’ve got someone waiting for you at home?”

Surprised at his forwardness, she nodded. 

Chakotay looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s a Terran custom to wear a wedding ring, isn’t it?”

“I’m surprised,” she said. “I’d have thought you’d have done your due diligence and discovered everything there is to know about the captain and vessel assigned to capture you.”

“Ah, but we didn’t know you were coming after us. Forgive me, Captain, but you didn’t even register on our radar before all this began.” He smiled again, flashing his dimples once more. “So, who’s the lucky fellow?”

It took her a second to realize what he meant. “Admiral Owen Paris,” she said quietly.

“Admiral,” he said, nodding. “Someone high enough in Starfleet to notice when you turn up missing. I suppose that bodes well for all of us; he’ll probably do whatever he can to get you – and by extension the rest of us – home.” The rest of her answer seemed to register then. “Paris, as in, related to Tom Paris?”

 _Might as well be honest_ , she decided. “He’s my stepson.”

“I see. Well, I suppose it’s a good thing I already promised not to touch him,” he said dryly.

“I would demand the same for any member of my crew,” she said, a note of steel in her voice.

“I’m sure you would, Captain,” he said, giving her a penetrating glance.

“So we’re decided,” she said briskly, seeking to regain control of the conversation once more. “You’re assigned to the first officer’s quarters on Deck 2. I’ll have Tuvok escort you as you aren’t familiar with the ship’s layout yet.” She felt a pang once more at the loss of Jeremy Cavit, who’d died on the wild ride to the Delta Quadrant. She’d ordered his personal effects put into storage, in the hopes that one day she could present them to his wife and son. “Go over the roster and make your recommendations. We’ll convene a formal staff meeting at 1800 hours.”

“Aye, Captain,” Chakotay said, and this time he did shake her hand. “I’m looking forward to serving with you.”

“As am I, Commander,” she said, looking down at their clasped hands. “As am I. I think we’ll do very well together.”


End file.
